


We Will Rise

by Emo_MabelPines



Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Apocalyptic World, Gore, Multi, Violence, Zombies, basically my imagination of what goes wrong with the vaccine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emo_MabelPines/pseuds/Emo_MabelPines
Summary: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO BLOOD, GORE, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE, OR ANYTHING CONCERNING THE VIRUS IN OUR WORLD TODAY.Mare Barrow hates her life. The pandemic of 2020 has corrupted her entirely, toying with her family, friends, and mind. Fortunately, a vaccine is produced and required for all citizens of Norta to receive. Unfortunately, it affects anyone over the age of 25 and renders them savage and foaming at the mouth; zombies. Mare, along with her sister, Gisa, and best friend, Kilorn, go on the run, avoiding newly turned zombies and shifty minors around every corner. While running into friend and foe alike, Mare must face the ultimate question. What sacrifices is she willing to make to stay alive?
Relationships: Cameron Cole/Kilorn Warren, Diana Farley/Shade Barrow, Elane Haven/Evangeline Samos, Mare Barrow/Kilorn Warren, Mare Barrow/Maven Calore, Mare Barrow/Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII, Maven Calore/Iris Cygnet, Maven Calore/Thomas, Tiberias "Cal" Calore VII/Kilorn Warren, Tiberias Calore VI/Coraine, Tiberias Calore VI/Elara Merandus
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Trust No One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again, it’s me!
> 
> I promise I am still working on requests from my one-shot works but I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’ve spent hours working on this. 
> 
> Just a few warnings!  
> \- This fanfiction included graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore. Please do not read if you’re sensitive to that.  
> \- I know not everything will be scientifically accurate, this is my imagination running wild  
> \- This fic also includes mentions of the virus currently plaguing the world. If you are sensitive to the mention of it or have trouble hearing about it, I’d advise you don’t read.  
> \- Some swearing occurs, you have been warned  
> \- also, there will be unfortunate deaths, injuries, and characters turning into zombies. I’m afraid the story goes as it goes and I’m terribly sorry if your favorite character is not included as much or is killed off too soon. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to Victoria Aveyard!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think of this new idea! If there’s anything you see that is missing or just doesn’t make sense, don’t hesitate to tell me :)

Our substitute history teacher is the first encounter I have with the backlash of the vaccine. 

Throughout the world, a pandemic was ensued due to a virus everyone foretold was harmless. Starting on the opposite side of the Earth, sickness spread to Montfort, then to Prairie, passing from person to person all the way to Norta and my hometown, the Stilts. As far as I know, the virus merely attacks the newborns, the elderly, and people with unfortunate conditions. However, the government ensures the facts don’t make it any less dangerous.

Kilorn used to joke about the virus, claiming it’s futile to fret over something that will last a month or two then fizzle out and leave everyone feeling overdramatic. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I would laugh at the statement along with my sister, Gisa. How I wish I could take those moments back.

Nobody was allowed into class today without the vaccine pumping through their system, including staff. The Stilts had reopened their schools just last week since, according to the government, we would be just fine after receiving the treatment. Silver students, however, stay home and learn on their devices so they’re socially distancing long enough for the vaccine to run its course. Just another unfair difference between the kings and the peasants.

Today is the first day to be impaled by needles, whether it be from the school nurse or a personal doctor, although I’m not sure many at Stilts High School can afford one. Kilorn, Gisa, and I stopped by the nurse’s office this morning before class, much to my dismay. The shot itself wasn’t painful, it was the dull ache afterwards that left me grinding my teeth. Even now, as I sit boredly in history, I rub my forearm, frowning. Are vaccinations supposed to throb like this?

Mr. Julian, our substitute teacher, currently sits at his desk, eyes running along the pages of a book as he waits for his students to finish their assignment. He reaches up to scratch his arm then turns the page. 

So far, Mr. Julian is the only Silver to ever consider heading down to our less fortunate neighborhood to teach. Our original history teacher, Mrs. Hummer caught the wretched virus a month before school officially closed down five months ago. No one has heard from her since so assholes in our class have been assuming she’s dead. The school became desperate for a replacement and was astounded when Mr. Julian, a rich, powerful Silver, decided to drive an hour from his home to teach history to a bunch of dirty Reds.

In all honesty, I’ve been having trouble trusting him. Who gives up time from their life of wealth and power to mingle with unruly suppressed rats?

“Psst.”

As much as I love Kilorn, he can be a pest. Turning my head to glance at him, I narrow my eyes. I mouth to him so Mr. Julian doesn’t have to lecture me.  _ What? _

The blonde boy gives me a cheeky grin and tosses a crumpled ball of paper onto my desk. Quietly unwrapping it, I find Kilorn’s terrible scrawls written on it. 

**_What’s the answer to #4?_ **

Rolling my eyes, I pick up the pencil I discarded a few minutes ago and scribble a response.

**_None ya._ **

I toss it back and watch as he reads it. He looks up and gives me a frown, mimicking a tear rolling down his cheek with one finger. Shrugging, I return to my own paper, remembering why I gave up in the first place. Mr. Julian is an amazing teacher, though his work leaves me wanting to rip my hair out.

Speaking of my tormenter, he’s apparently struggling. For the past half hour of independent work study, our teacher has been scratching at his forearm consistently. Now, when I let my eyes wander and find them landing upon him, his teeth grind together and his itching becomes fiercer. Too fierce.

Other students have begun to notice, yet none say a word. I gander over at Kilorn, jutting my chin towards the front of the room with a questioning arched eyebrow. He shrugs in return, eyes narrowed in concern. 

“Mr. Julian?” A boy at the front of the class asks nervously, pushing his taped glasses up his nose. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Jason, just fine.” The words are too forced. If he meant to calm us, he failed miserably. 

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my gut. Never has my subconscious blared alarms like this before. Like a red flag waving in front of me, I can feel suspense building in my bones, as if my body is preparing for a fight or flight situation.

That plight is thrown right in my face when a scream echoes throughout the hall. Everyone's head snaps towards the door. Mr. Julian attempts to stand to check what’s happening then falls to the ground with a thud. My classmates in the front gasp and jump from their seats; a few gather round him with nauseous expressions. 

“I think he’s having a seizure!” One girl yelps, kneeling down next to him.

Chatter breaks out amongst the others. Kilorn and I simultaneously rush to the front, though I stop and put a hand out in front of my best friend to keep him back. We don’t know what’s happening so we must be careful. 

Mr. Julian writhes on the ground horridly, foam dripping from his lips and his eyes flicking in every direction; his pupils are nearly gone, overcome by the iris. His once crisp, clean work attire is coated in the dust and dirt still clinging to the floor that the janitor didn’t care enough to clean up. Despite his state, the girl who spoke earlier tends to him carefully. I think she wants to become a doctor; I once told her we had healers for that sort of thing. She didn’t take it well.

“Mr. Julian?”

He’s stopped convulsing on the floor. The crowd around the girl and the teacher back up. My eyes flicker to the door, which is on the other side of the room. 

Suddenly, everything happens at once. Another piercing scream rings out as a shadow passes outside our classroom door, followed by another and another. At the same exact time, Mr. Julian opens his eyes and takes one look at the girl who wants to be a doctor before sitting up rapidly and steals a large bite out of her shoulder. Her wails are penetrating. 

Kilorn breathes. “What the fuck!”

Finally the class loses it, everyone pushing past one another to grab their things and scramble away from the horror scene. Yelps and cries are heard inside and outside the classroom as more people run past the door to escape whatever is after them. 

Unfortunately, their pursuer might be what I’m staring at now; an all too real zombie.

“Mare!” Kilorn is shaking me by the shoulder, pulling me back. “We need to go!”

I shake my head, blinking at the sight of my once favorite teacher devouring a student. Like an animal. “He just-“

“What about Gisa?”

An image flashes through my head. Gisa, my creative, talented little sister, her beautiful red hair frizzing as she crawls helplessly away from a zombie straight out of a horror movie. I need to get to her.

Copying Kilorn, I snatch my bag from the floor beside my desk, abandoning my history assignment on my desk. Guess I won’t be turning that in anytime soon. 

We leave Mr. Julian feasting on human flesh while white drips from his mouth and stains the cold, wooden floor.

* * *

Bodies crash into one another as students sprint towards the entrance doors of the high school. Nobody seems to care if they ram into another’s shoulder or spill their books onto the floor. The only care right now is to escape, to live.

Which is why I happen to be headed in the opposite direction. Whenever there’s a crisis, you better believe I’m running straight towards it.

“Where’s her class?” Kilorn raises his voice to talk above the screams and frantic pants. His green eyes reflect fear and his mouth is parted slightly in a nervous manner. If anything, he wants to run with the rest, but he understands how important family is to me, even if he wouldn’t know what that feels like. 

“Room 1112. First floor, first hall.” I yell back.

“But that’s in-“

“The basement, I know.” I cut him off, squeezing my eyes shut as Kilorn pulls me out of the way of a cluster of screeching girls. We’re pressed against the wall, our bodies frozen. The basement has a single exit, which is in the one place teachers enjoy hanging around so no slackers leave early. Sneaking down there would be suicide if all adults are slowly changing into rabid zombies.

Sucking on his teeth, Kilorn sighs. “We’re going to have to, Mare.” 

“I know.” I say again as I take a deep breath. “We can’t let her die.” Tears threaten to fall as they glisten in my eyes. I’m not an emotional person in the least, but the thought of my sister suffering the same fate as the girl in the history room brings me closer to sobbing than I ever have been.

“We won’t. I promise. But if we’re going to do this we need to do it quickly.” As if to prove his point, teachers from classrooms posted in the hallway stumble through the open doors drunkenly. They’re all pale, excluding Mr. Julian who is the color of printer paper, and the whites of their eyes look as though they’ve glossed over pupils and irises. Like they’re blind. Moans and groans tumble from their cracking lips while they slap one foot in front of the other, each movement a workout for them. Few students are still running through the halls, attempting to swerve around the zombies. The unlucky ones are caught by outstretched hands and dragged, screaming, to their fate.

Swallowing thickly, I seize Kilorn’s hand and race down the hall, cracked plaster walls blurring around me. Lucky for us, most of the zombies in our way are focused on meals already in front of them, so Kilorn and I are able to agilely twist around them to the flight of stairs which will bring us to the first floor.

Hesitating, we both pause at the top. The scraping of feet along with groans and wails bounce off the walls and send chills down my spine. I grab Kilorn’s hand and squeeze it. As of now, we’re safe, there being no zombies roaming around us at the moment. However, if we stay here for too long, we will be found, and if we move to a new location such as Gisa’s classroom, we are doomed. 

“Let’s go.” I hate how my voice quivers.

The first floor is deserted. At least, that’s what it appears to be. Between the first and fourth corridors, there’s a long stretch of walkways that give access to every classroom. A flight of stone steps spits us out right at the first floor entrance, where I guessed a group of zombies frothing at the mouths would be waiting. The lack of them causes me to feel more concerned. 

“Where are they?” I wonder aloud, keeping my voice to a whisper.

Kilorn scrunches his nose. “Man, what is that stench?” He ignores my question, nearly gagging. It hits me soon after, causing my throat to close up and bile to rise. Once, one of my brothers, a terrible cook, tried making a family recipe for an egg bake. Long story short, he placed what looked more like decomposed intestines on our plates and it smelled like rotting eggs and garlic. That’s the smell wafting through the air.

Holding my nose, I peek around the corner to find the corpse of a student with red hair. Her guts spill out across the floor and her blood pools around her body. “Gisa?!” Without thinking, I rush over to the dead girl, only to realize with sick relief that it isn’t my sister. It’s a girl I’ve never seen before. “It’s coming from her.” I release the breath I haven’t noticed I was holding.

Kilorn rounds the corner soon after me, eyes wide. “Don’t do that, you scared the shit out of me.” Upon viewing the body, he gags for real, covering his mouth and nose. “Ah, god. I’m gonna be sick.”

“Please don’t.” I calm my own stomach, forcing the acid down. If Kilorn gets sick, I have a feeling I will as well.

Thankfully, I don’t have time to examine the girl. A scraping noise can be heard from the right hallway leading down to the third and fourth corridors. Kilorn and I share a look of complete and utter terror. Without warning, Kilorn thinks quickly and drags me beneath the stairs, the only place hidden from anyone’s view. On the contrary, if we’re found, we have no other exit. I’m about to scold him for hiding in the one spot we’ll surely die in if we’re caught when he covers my mouth with one hand, pressing a finger from his other to his lips. A groan sounds loudly as a zombie shuffles closer. We both freeze, knowing better than to make a peep.

As soon as the apocalyptic monster is heard near the body of the girl, not even six feet away from our spot, Kilorn bites his lower lip to keep from whimpering. My eyes are trained on the ends of the corpse’s hair, which is the only visible part of her. 

What feels like hours passes before the zombie decides to leave the body be and slinks away to do god knows what. Exhaling, Kilorn and I peer out from underneath the stairs, scanning the area. Neither of us feel speaking is appropriate yet so we communicate with our eyes; we’re able to do it well since Kilorn has been my best friend since childhood. 

_ Gisa. _ I mouth to him. He nods, shifting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. Mine is loosely draped on my back. I nearly forgot about it. The only reason I bothered to take it is because my electronics are inside along with my lunch and items and that can be made into weapons, such as scissors and pencils. My dad happens to be a preparer for these kinds of things so growing up around him forced my brain to think as he does when it comes to times like this.

Room 1112 is the easiest room to approach, mainly due to it’s right at the beginning of the first corridor. No zombies are lurking around any corners, although we do catch a glimpse of a few wandering the art room. They don’t notice us, but the possibility they could’ve left me trembling. 

“Gisa.” I hiss once I’m sure there’s no sign of the revolting creatures in the room. Sewing machines are set up nicely on the desks, each one with an unfinished masterpiece attached to it. Buckets of pins, needles, and yarn fill the shelves lining the walls, leaving me to wonder where the school got funding for this. Possibly the Silver institution if they were asked politely enough. Blood smears across the floor, probably an unfortunate soul who was taken against their will. “Gee.” I try again, stepping inside. Kilorn follows, a green tint to his skin. He still hasn’t gotten over the rancid stench filling the air.

“Mare?” 

“Gee?” 

A redhead pokes her head cautiously up from behind the teacher’s desk. It curves out from the wall, creating a square shape to it and a barrier from the outside. A perfect cloaking device for a freshman.

When she sees it’s me and Kilorn, she sighs, standing up shakily. Her cheeks are stained with black streaks from the makeup she insisted on wearing this morning. We can’t afford accessories like that but Gisa made use of what we have at home and was able to glamorize herself. I would scold her for wasting the supplies, but this is not an ordinary day so makeup doesn’t matter right now.

“Are you okay?” Rushing over to her, I squish her cheeks in my hands, checking her over for injuries or bites. Although she’s three years younger, Gisa is taller than me by two inches already so I have to look up into her eyes. 

She shakes her head. “I’m okay. Just...scared.” Her eyes flick down to the floor next to her. That’s when I realize there’s someone else here. “Kat and I managed to hide out down here when our teacher went mad. Mare, you should’ve seen her. Flaming at the mouth, eyes wild, savage even. She nearly took a bite out of me!”

“That’s what happened with Mr. Julian.” Kilorn says, peering outside the room to make sure the coast is clear. 

Kat clambers to her feet, shifting awkwardly. “Is anyone..?” She trails off, leaving the question unfinished. We all know what she means. Her eyes linger on the trail of blood on the ground.

“A few, yes. Kilorn and I got past the worst of it to get to you.”

Gisa looks torn between wanting to hug me and slap me. “You two could’ve been killed! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I like you better alive.” I snap angrily. “Do you truly think I’m going to run and leave my own sister behind as a snack for those-“

“Don’t say it.” Kat whispers, closing her eyes and lowering her head. She’s a quiet girl, one that I can stereotype as a nerd. With her thin-rimmed large glasses and petite form clothed in a red sweater and jeans. Mousy brown hair frames her pale face and conceals her doe eyes when it falls across her features. Moreover, she’s the type of person who seems like they would cry if they were forced into a haunted house. Not a good trait to have at this time.

Gisa gazes at her sympathetically. “We’ll be okay. We just need to leave the school without running into any….well...you know.”

Kilorn joins us, lips pressed into a thin line. Usually, he would crack a joke or pick a pretend fight with me. But not now, not when serious Kilorn needs to make an appearance. “We didn’t see any….creatures.. standing guard in front of the doors on this level. If we can, our best bet is to leave through that entrance.”

“We did see one, Kilorn. It’s not completely safe.” I mumble, careful not to scare poor Kat.

“What do we do then?” Gisa prompts. 

For a terrifying second, I don’t have an answer. What if I make a decision and we all die gruesome deaths consequently? If anything happens to Gisa or Kilorn, I’d tear at myself until I’m nothing more than a broken heap on the floor. If anything happens to Kat, I’d feel terrible, but not as bad as Gisa would be.

“We run. Our only option is through those doors. If we’re quick and efficient, we’ll make it.” I say confidently, though I’m not entirely sure it’ll work. The others consider it and agree. I feel sick to my stomach.

The urge to puke rages on inside me as we creep out of the sewing room and through the dreary hall. Pausing outside the art room, remembering our previous encounter, I glance inside to double check. Sure enough, the same zombies are inside, apparently unaware there is a door they can exit through. Waving my hand, we silently sneak past the room. Not even a minute later, our ticket to freedom comes into view. Unfortunately, Mrs. Williams, the senior English teacher, paces the carpeted ground, jerking her body forward spastically. Rabid foam coats her mouth and drips onto her sunny yellow blouse. Her eyes are as white as the others were. 

“I don’t think she can see us.” I say as quietly as I can. “Their eyes are white, as if they’re blind.” Kilorn, who’s behind me, passes the message on. 

“What do we do then?” He asks, his mouth close to my ear. I watch Mrs. Williams carefully, tracking her every move. An idea strikes me like lightning and I act before consulting the members of my group. Digging in my pocket, I fish out an eraser I had dropped in there after my second hour; I didn’t have time to put it away so I figured my pocket was going to be it’s home until it’s found in the laundry next week. I chuck it down the second corridor, where it bounces softly. Not too softly because Mrs. Williams, or what once was her, whirls her head in it’s direction and begins to shuffle down the hall. The second her back is turned, I usher the others past her and we scramble as quietly as we can to the doors. The zombies inside the art room don’t come stumbling out so I assume they cannot hear the eraser as well as Mrs. Williams can.

For some odd reason, our victory seems too easy. We’re able to push the doors open and rush out of Stilts High School without a backwards glance. No zombies are roaming the grounds and we all run until we reach the end of the school zone a few blocks down. Much too easy.

“Do you...think mom...and dad...will be okay?” Gisa pants, resting her hands on her knees as she catches her breath. 

Guiltily, I realize the thought never occurred to me. Are mom and dad victims of the vaccine too? Or are they long gone by now, another couple of bodies lying in the street? I don’t want to visualize it. “They’re fine. They have to be.”

“That’s weird.” Kat speaks for the first time in a while. We all turn to her. She fidgets with a bracelet around her wrist. “There were no bodies on the way here. No….monsters either. Where did they go?”

“And people.” Kilorn adds. “It’s dead silent.” He’s right. We’re in the center of the busiest block in town, the market square, and the only people here are us. That sense is tingling once again. I get a foul taste in my mouth.

“Our house is close. Let’s check on it.” Gisa looks at me and I nod. Mom and dad are top priority right now. 

Once our sorry excuse of a house comes into view, I bite hard enough on my tongue to draw blood. Mom and Dad are standing waveringly in the front yard, swaying slightly. What they’re facing is out of sight and I almost refuse to find out. 

“Mom? Dad?” Gisa speaks and I slap a hand over her mouth, staring at her incredulously. Her eyes lock with mine and I shake my head. The meaning of my expression is obvious.  _ Trust no one. _

Kilorn is the first of us to brave a glance around the corner of our neighbor’s house, which shields whatever fright awaits us. His face goes slack and the green tint that had vanished before returns with a vengeance. Stumbling back, he hunches over and hurls on the grass. Fortunately, there are too many moans and groans coming from the site to hear him. 

Gisa and Kat pale simply at Kilorn’s reaction. I fold my hands into fists.  _ Be strong. _ Resting one fist on the shabby exterior of my neighbor’s house for support, I behold a sight unlike any other. 

In the main street cutting in front of my home, where my mother and father are standing and watching as if it’s a parade, is a massacre. Zombies feast on the young, ranging from children under five to adults in their mid-20s. Most of them are students attending our school; they must’ve been chased out here and cornered. 

With a sick understanding, I launch myself back. Gisa tries to get me to talk but my tongue is swollen and my heart is in my throat. 

Not only are these zombies bloodthirsty and preying on the young, they’re intelligent. Smart enough to drive their meals into a single spot and ambush them. The zombies in the art room, Mrs. Williams, even the ones we passed in the halls on the way to Gisa’s sewing room must all know we’re alive and running.

I watch as my parents, once loving and non-cannibalistic, join the scene with gnashing teeth and hungry eyes.


	2. U.W.U.S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mare, Kilorn, Gisa, and Kat must decide what their next course of action is, all while dealing with the fact their world has been thrown into chaos.
> 
> Warning: swearing, mentions of COVID-19, and light gore (not much in this chapter to be honest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m enjoying this story! I only had the idea and I honestly didn’t see it going anywhere when I started writing it but now I’ve got a great plot going and I hope to write it well!
> 
> Enjoy the second chapter!

_ They know. They know we’re here. _

Clutching my head between my hands, I stare at the browning grass of our lawn. Zombies were bad enough. Intelligent zombies with the ability to deceive? We’re never going to stay alive.

Gisa kneels in front of me, her thin fingers prying at my arms. “Mare.” She whispers. “Mare, we can’t stay here.” A sob interrupting her words forces me to look up. She’s crying again, turning her eyes bloodshot red and her cheeks a stained black. Kat hugs herself, squeezing her eyes shut and muttering what sounds like a prayer. Gisa and Kat must’ve gotten a glimpse of the horrendous scene.

Kilorn has finished emptying his guts and places a hand over his belly weakly. “Gee’s right. They’ll find us.”

“They’re smart. They led everyone here to corner them.” I babble, knowing I sound anything but sane right now. “The ones we thought were dumb know we’re alive. They let us get away.” The others all share looks. I whip my head between them. “What?”

“We know. You’ve told us that three times already.” Gisa presses her lips into a thin line, eyebrow knitting in concern. Her tears have ceased for the time being.

Kilorn shuffles closer. “You’ve been muttering that to yourself for the past five minutes.” Setting a gentle hand on my shoulder, he looks me in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

Had I rocked on the ground, mumbling those thoughts aloud while my sister and my best friend looked on worriedly? I don’t remember.

Shakily standing, I check if my backpack is still on my back. It is and I clutch the straps as though they’re life support. “I’m fine.” I don’t need to tell them what I’m truly feeling. Swirling emotions mixed with anxiety in my gut can only result in either crying or my breakfast on the ground next to Kilorn’s.

_ Breakfast. _ Just this morning, four hours ago, Gisa and I were sitting at the kitchen table with mom and dad. Mom made eggs and bacon, designing them into a smiling face on our plates like she used to when we were little. Gisa ate it up, the food and the gesture. I groaned, claiming I’m not a child any longer. Mom had laughed and ruffled my hair, saying I’m still her child and until I move out, she’s going to treat me with all the love in the world through food, hugs, and words. Being the snippy kid I am, I retorted that she told me she wouldn’t love me when I move out. Dad simply chuckled from his seat, adjusting his prosthetic leg. “Oh, she’ll love you plenty. But you’ll be an adult then and she won’t smother you as she does now. I’d take it while you’ve got it.”

Now I won’t ever endure her love again. 

“Where do we go?” I ask, attempting to turn the conversation off of me. 

Kat answers, much to my surprise. She hasn’t been talkative. “My house. Please. I need to make sure my family is okay.” Gisa wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders, an action that can be perceived as something more. However, now isn’t the time to delve into that.

I hold my tongue. We all share the same thought, though I was about to mercilessly speak it. Kat’s family is most likely either zombies or corpses strewn across her home. I feel the need to snap at her, tell her the truth, open her eyes. My family was taken so why shouldn’t hers be?  _ Monster. _ I can’t believe I thought I could ever inform someone of such a gruesome situation. Hope is the key we need to survive; I can’t take that spark away.

“We’ll head there then. Kat, do you know of any shortcuts we can take?” Gisa speaks. 

“No. Gee, we need to stay here.” The two freshmen look at me with a hurtful look. “I’m sorry, Kat, but what happens if we run across a hoard of zombies and we’re ingested like the people out there?” Kat flinches at the word. “Our best option is to hide away from this shit.”

Gisa shakes her head. “Her family could be alive. Don’t you think we should at least check?”

“I’d rather live. I’m not trying to be uncaring here, I’m trying to be smart. That’s what’s going to keep us safe, intelligence. Going after people on the other side of town is the worst course of action we can take.”

“We don’t know a lot about the zombies yet, either.” Kilorn pipes up as Kat cringes again. “Before we plow through the streets like we’re offering free meat, we need to know what we’re up against.” Kilorn’s words are passive and startle me. I might be slowly revealing a new side of him.

“Please stop referring to them as that.” Kat sniffs. “They’re all people we used to know.”

Gisa’s glare silences me. She knows exactly what I wish to disclose and immediately puts a stop to it. I chew on my inner lip, internally raging but keeping my thoughts to myself. 

Gisa brushes hair out of Kat’s face, smiling reassuringly. “We won’t. It’ll be okay. I’m sure your family can hold on for the time being. Mare is right. We can’t display ourselves openly, not until we know our enemy.”

Kat grimaces at the word “enemy” but nods. 

“Where do we stay then?” Kilorn asks, avoiding staring at the cluster of bodies surrounding the corpses of our neighbors and schoolmates. “Not to be a bummer but it’s too risky here.”

“My house. It’s only a couple of blocks north of here-“ 

“No, Kat, we aren’t going to your house. It’s too far away and I’d rather stay amongst the living today.” I snap angrily. Gisa gives me a death glare when Kat tears up, apologizing profusely. Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, I’m sorry. Fine, let’s go to your house. Looks like we’ve got no other option. If we die, we die fighting.” I trudge over to our worn down shed in the backyard, careful to watch the zombies out of the corner of my eye. All of them are too invested in cannibalism to notice four sweaty, terrified teenagers passing the scene. 

Kilorn follows me. I can feel his eyes in the back of my head. As I pick the lock on the shed, don’t ask me how I know to do that, I grumble. “What?”

“Mare, you’re scaring us. What’s going on?”

Whipping my head around to face him, my eyes blaze. “I don’t know. Maybe ask the zombies eating everyone we’ve ever known and do question their motives when it comes to hunting us down.”

“We’re all scared.” The blonde says sympathetically. “But we’ve got to keep a level head-“

“You never have a leveled head, Kilorn, so stop acting like you know.” 

Backing down, he scratches one hand, nodding. “Okay.”

Now it’s Gisa’s turn to pull me aside. She leaves Kat where she’s at and marches over to me angrily. “What is your problem? There are zombies roaming around and you’re acting out instead of working with us.”

Bewildered, I scoff, nearly laughing. “So, acting out during a zombie apocalypse is unusual? Huh, think I missed that in every single fucking horror movie I’ve watched.”

“I didn’t say that.” Gisa sets her hands on her hips. The sun hits her hair just right; breathtaking and beautiful. Her artsy style compares to my goth clothing. She looks older despite the tear stains on her face, more mature, and looks down upon me like a parent would a child. I feel like I threw a tantrum and now I’m being scolded. “Instead of snapping at others for feeling normal human emotions, you can sympathize. Kat has no idea where her family is or what could be happening to them; you got to see your family so why can’t she see hers? And Kilorn’s trying to be helpful but you put him down as though he’ll never be anything more than an idiot. If you want to keep us alive and sane, start thinking rationally and become aware of others.”

“Fine. I’m sorry. I’m just…” I suck on my teeth, “...upset.” I know better than to argue, especially now. 

Gisa takes my hands gently, squeezing them. “You’re scaring us, Mare. First, you get lost in your head and then you’re acting out of character.”

“I get it, Gee. I’m sorry. We’ll head to your girlfriend’s house and try not to die on the journey there.” Keeping the snap out of my tone, I drop my hands from hers and open the shed door. “We’ll need weapons.” I can tell Gisa is staring at me, stuttering, but I refuse to speak any more of my behavior or Kat. There are many things I desperately want to say though none of them will make the situation any more promising.

Kilorn catches the shovel I throw to him easily, turning it in his hands. “A shovel? What am I? A gravedigger?” The rest of us give him a glare at the irony of his question.

Kat receives a garden hoe, which I specifically gave to her while drilling holes into Gisa’s head with my eyes. 

Returning from the shed with a metal baseball bat for Gisa and an ax for me, I readjust the straps on my bag. I filled it with some special items we may need later. “Alright. These are the four best tools I could find in there.” Another way of saying Gisa and I are poor and can’t afford fancier, sharper, weapon-like objects.

“Why is mine a hoe?” Kat inspects the gardening tool in her hand closely. 

I give her the smallest of smirks. “I’ll let you think about that.” Gisa, for the seventh time today, wants to slap me. I may be being a dick but it’s totally worth it.

“As much as I love this moment, we have a problem.” Kilorn states, gripping the handle of his shovel tightly. His eyes are trained on the hoard of zombies in the road. One by one, as they finish their meals, shells of our former family and friends raise their heads. A few pairs of pure white eyes land upon us and nausea washes over me. 

“Now might be the best time for those directions, Kat.”

Hyperventilating, the brown-haired nerd holds the hoe close to her. “Uh...f-four blocks north of here. That way.” She points in the one direction we can’t go in.

“For fuck’s sake…” Handing Gisa her bat, I march past the others, waving my hand. “We’ve got to go east first then.” We quicken our pace as the zombies begin to move. Although slow and making jerking movements, their quick thought process is not to be tampered with. I’m not taking any chances by taking my time.

Avoiding zombies isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I assumed they would all be crowding around the feast in front of my house but there are many roaming the streets of the Stilts. Kat points out landmarks she recognizes as we travel, enlightening us on where to turn and how much further we must go. Kilorn holds up the rear, casting glances behind us every so often and whispering a warning for any unwelcome members of the undead. Gisa keeps close to Kat and walks behind me, her bat in hand, ready for use.

Fortunately, we don’t run straight into any zombies on the way to our destination. Unfortunately, Kat’s house, as well as her entire street, is littered with groaning, white-eyed cannibals. Kat, despite her status, lives in a richer neighborhood where both Silvers and Red reside in. I’ve heard the violence in this area is common and brutal due to the obvious. Suddenly, I feel pity for Kat. So far, all I’ve seen her as is a whiny, timorous child that happens to be Gisa’s friend with possible benefits. Now, I view her as scared for reasons I don’t fully understand and shy since she’s grown up knowing better than to pick fights. Guilt pools in my gut.

“Oh god…” Kat breathes, covering her mouth with one hand. We’re stationed behind a cracking wooden fence across the street from Kat’s house, kneeling and hearts racing. Most zombies around here are diverse, both Silver and Red monsters terrorizing the neighborhood. The screams we’ve been hearing consistently throughout our journey have long since died out, leaving us quivering. It must only mean one thing to have the screams silenced abruptly.

I exhale through my nose, peering through a hole in the fence. “Wonderful. There’s no way we’re getting in there without gaining the attention of at least twelve zombies.”

“I do live on a busy street.” Kat admits quietly and cringes when I gander at her with a “no shit” expression.

Eyes scanning around us, Kilorn presses his lips into a thin line. Apparently, he isn’t over what I said to him and has proved he’d rather not speak to me unless needed. “Do we have a choice? Where else will we hunker down? Random houses?”

“Not a good idea. Could have survivors who would rather gift us to the...well...y’know.. than take us in.” Gisa points out.

“Okay, what’re we going to call those things if Kat can’t stand hearing it?” Kilorn sighs. Apparently, we’re all tired of avoiding the word.

“What about, victim?” Kat whispers, eyes downcast.

“That’s stupid.”

“Kilorn!” Gisa hisses.

“What? Okay...Changeling?”

“What is this, a teen sci-fi novel?”

“What would you call them then?”

“Obviously, the best choice is U.W.U.S.”

“What the fuck is U.W.U.S?”

“Undead with unfortunate situations.”

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Is this necessary right now, guys?”

“Yes! It’s incredibly important. We’ll refer to them as U.W.U.S.” Gisa proclaims as Kat offers her a tiny smile. Kilorn rolls his eyes at the acronym.

“Never did I think I’d be stuck in an...U.W.U.S apocalypse with you idiots.” I mutter, hearing the chuckle from Kilorn at my use of the nickname.

An explosion disrupts our conversation, startling the four of us. I nearly drop my ax at the suddenness of it. U.W.U.S within a five mile radius walk spastically in that direction, clearing a path for us. 

“How convenient…” 

“Now’s our chance.” Gisa takes Kat’s hand and pulls her to her feet while Kilorn and I stand on our own. I’m about to caution her, but she’s already peering out from the fence’s edge, confirming there are no U.W.U.S, then races across the street with Kat. I swear under my breath.

“Why can’t she be more careful? We’re in a goddamn zombie apocalypse.” I start after her, Kilorn at my heels.

“It’s U.W.U.S. And she takes after you, you know.”

He passes me as I slow in realization. He’s right. Gisa is turning into me; an impulsive delinquent. I don’t know how that makes me feel.

“They’re gone.” Kat says, tears forming in her eyes. Her eyes search the interior of her house. Gisa holds her back so she doesn’t step inside yet, telling her we need to be cautious. How can she say that after running out in the open just a few seconds ago?

“I’m sure they’re okay. Your parents were at work, right? And your brother was just coming home from school about an hour ago? He's probably hiding out somewhere.” The lie doesn’t comfort anyone.

“Where do you think the explosion came from?” Kilorn asks, hoping to change the subject. No one needs the idea of a dead family in their minds. 

Simultaneously, we all look over in the direction where it came from, seeing the last of the zombies disappearing around the corner. “Maybe it was-“ I’m cut off by a strangled yell.

A man with dark hair and shredded, burnt clothes comes tumbling out of a bush in the opposite direction of the blast. Scrambling to his feet, he pants, whipping his head around wildly, eyes wide. Upon seeing us, his eyes widen and he opens his mouth to speak.

“Inside.” I order, uncaring of any retorts. Kat, Gisa, and Kilorn file inside Kat’s house quickly. The man shuffles closer to us. I’m about to shut the door and bolt it before he can reach us when I notice a difference in him. His eyes are a bronze color, unshielded by the whites of his eyes. They’re terrified and pleading, locking right onto mine. 

Another detail I notice is he’s Silver.

“Please.” He says, clasping his hands together as if he’s praying. “Please.” A man down to his last hope. I sense usually he’s strong and collected, a fighter. But he must’ve been fighting constantly since this shit started due to the dirt on his pale skin and shreds in his clothes. Even his hair is smoking. Was he involved in that explosion?

“You’re not infected.” I say dumbly. Gisa hisses at me from behind, wondering what the hell I’m waiting for. I could ask myself the same thing. However, he’s compelling with his mysterious injuries and pleading eyes. He’s normal, not an U.W.U.S. Another survivor in need of a safe haven. 

The next action I do is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. “Get inside. Now.”

As the Silver retreats inside, Kilorn, Gisa, and Kat stare at me in horror. I just invited a dirty, powerful, Silver stranger to hide out with us. 

What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism welcome and strongly encouraged. :)


	3. Why Did He Have to Be a Calore?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newcomer is slow to gain the trust of the group and Mare finds she’s gradually becoming untrusted by her own comrades, despite the circumstances.
> 
> Warning: mentions of the virus and slight graphic description of gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter! I’ve been on a roll tonight with writing. This is more of a backstory chapter and we get introduced to someone new. It’s a little slow but bear with me, more action is to come in the future chapters! I also promise more characters will make appearances, I just need to get everything laid out first :)
> 
> Also, to clear up any confusion, this fic is set in 2020 and the vaccine has been produced, mostly ending quarantine. They are in Norta, not in current countries we live in today. So it’s as if our current timeline and Aveyard’s timeline crashed together, if that makes sense. So there might be references to things we have today in our current generation.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Thank you.”

Kilorn can’t keep his mouth shut. “Don’t take it for granted. She should’ve never let you in.” He narrows his eyes at me. Gisa and Kat clasp one another’s hands in fear, eyeing the tall Silver.

Shifting on his feet awkwardly, the bronze-eyed man licks his lips. “I’m sorry. I was desperate.” He looks at me, as though I’ll defend him, and I find his eyes are searching mine. Unbelievable height has an advantage over me so I must tilt my head upwards to reach his face. I still have one hand on the doorknob after I close the door. To anyone else, our stances are perceived as tense, as though I’m about to run out the door from his towering figure. I grip my ax in my other hand tightly. He acknowledged it when he first arrived, lingering on the weapon with a noticeable fear. I tell him with that small action that I will not hesitate to chop his head off with it.

“You aren’t infected.” I repeat myself from earlier. “How?”

Arching an eyebrow, he sizes me up. “I could say the same about you.” Obviously, he trusts us as much as we do him. The tension in the entrance hallway is suffocating.

“We don’t know.” Gisa pipes up from behind Kilorn. The Silver’s eyes flit to her but she stands strong underneath his gaze. “All of a sudden our teachers turned into U.W.U.S and so did our parents.”

“What are U.W.U.S?” He sounds out the acronym terribly with a puzzled look.

Kilorn rolls his eyes as if he’s an idiot. “It stands for Undead With Unfortunate Situation.” His weapon, the shovel, is also clenched tightly in his hands. He’s ready to hit the guy over the head with it.

“They just made it up.” I sigh, allowing my hand to leave the sturdy handle and cross my arms, ax forgotten for the time being as it’s held limply. “They think they’re so smart.”

Gisa and Kilorn sneer at me. I suppose they won’t be speaking kindly to me for a while after the stunt I just pulled. I have to agree; I’d do the same if the tables were turned.

“Oh.” The taller guy nods slowly, looking between the four of us. His eyes stay mostly on me. “Nice nickname for them.” He’s attempting to make friends, though all of us know that’s not happening.

“What’s your name, Silver?” Kilorn prompts, having to tilt his head up a bit as well to look him in the eyes. The word tumbles from his lips with an accusing tone, letting him know how we feel about his heritage. How his kind has oppressed ours for much too long.

For some reason, the muscular Silver seems intimidated by Kilorn, a Red boy who can’t bring himself to harm a fish even though he fishes weekly. “Tiberias VII.” We all stare at him. He swallows uncomfortably. “But people call me Cal.”

“Cal.” I test it out. “Alright. You have a last name, Tiberias?” My refusal to call him by his nickname causes him to quirk an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth lifts in a barely visible smirk. It’s a crooked smile, one that is breathtaking... _ could _ be breathtaking...if we weren’t currently interrogating him. 

He chews the inside of his bottom lip hesitantly, averting eye contact.  _ A terrible concealer of emotions. _ “Yes. I’d rather keep that to myself.”

As if a bucket of rage has been dumped into Kilorn, he stomps up to Tiberias and points a measly finger in his face. “You’re gonna tell us,  _ Cal. _ That’s the price for us letting you in.”

“Shouldn’t we be bolting the doors and boarding up the windows?” Tiberias mutters sheepishly, his eyes flickering to the outside world where U.W.U.S could appear at any moment. He’s trying to avoid the question but he’s correct. If we don’t hurry and lock ourselves into Kat's— nicer—house, the intelligent U.W.U.S won’t take time clawing their way in.

Pursing my lips, I nod at Gisa who gets the message and takes Kat to find supplies for closing up the house. Smartly, they take their tools with them, the bat and hoe swinging dangerously in their hands. Kilorn and I, as awful as he may be at it, will stay to question Tiberias. 

Realizing he must answer, Tiberias clears his throat. “Calore. My last name is Calore.” Kilorn and I are frozen into silence. He’s a Calore, a burner. The son of Tiberias Calore VI, the man who basically runs the country with his job as president. Just the name Tiberias is an indicator of his status; we have the  _ eldest _ son of the president of Norta in our presence. Not only will the duty of country leader fall to Cal (as blood relative candidates of the president are mainly elected to keep it in the family), he will be our next voice, our next government leader. He will help in making Norta’s biggest decisions.

“Calore.” Kilorn repeats, his voice wavering. When Tiberias nods in confirmation, I swear the blonde is going to keel over with a heart attack. He did just insult and attempt to threaten the future president.

A bolt of lightning hits me. “You caused the explosion.” I motion to the metal bracelets circling his wrists, which I hadn’t noticed until now. Calores are burners; each should have a fire-making bracelet on them so they have a resource at all times, as we have learned in school. Tiberias must’ve been distracting the U.W.U.S so he could escape them unharmed.

“I did. I was cornered after I ran from home. I’m afraid I didn’t realize how much power I was putting into it until the heat seared off most of my clothes.”

That part I had noticed, though I wasn’t going to say anything nor complain. His lean form does not disappoint with the curves of his abs peeking out through rips in his expensive pajamas as well as his bulging biceps. His outfit is astounding, considering neither Kilorn or I have the money to buy such soft, nice material. It definitely compares to Kilorn’s scrappy green t-shirt and tan cargo pants. He also stands out against my dark, baggy sweatshirt and leggings mom bought for me at half price. I’m surprised to see Kilorn tracing his body with his eyes briefly.

“We can find you new ones.” I say around my swollen tongue. “Kat has a brother, I just hope he’s older.”  _ And as ripped. _

Speaking of Kat, she pokes her head out from the kitchen around the corner and beckons us into the room. “Gee and I need your help.” She lingers on Tiberias’s face for too long and flushes when he stares back at her. Retreating, she returns to her humble, shy self.

“Since when does she call Gisa Gee?” I wonder aloud as we oblige, heading into the kitchen. Kilorn keeps an eye on Tiberias, walking behind him, sandwiching him in between us.

The blonde shrugs. “Does it matter?”

I don’t respond. It doesn’t, but Kilorn wouldn’t understand how I feel about my sister being “taken” from me by a shy nerdy girl who doesn’t even have the nerve to speak above her inside voice. He’d claim I’m being over dramatic and jealous. 

“Is Gisa the redhead?” Tiberias asks, earning a scowl from Kilorn.

“Yeah. Gisa is my sister. Her...friend...is Kat, the idiot thinking he can intimidate you is Kilorn, and I’m Mare.” Kilorn gapes at me, eyes narrowing. I ignore him.

Tiberias nods, looking at each of us in turn with our names. Gisa and Kat have gathered a pile of supplies for boarding up the windows and doors. It consists of planks of wood, curtains, bedsheets, chairs, blankets, and even a small bookcase. 

“We can use the bigger pieces of furniture as well, but we’ll need strength to move those.” Gisa says, her eyes trailing to Tiberias at the mention of strength. I don’t blame her; he’s our muscle.

Setting my ax down, resting the head on the floor and the handle against the fading cupboards underneath the sink, I reach for a plank of wood. “Do we have any nails around here?”

* * *

  
  


A few hours later, thankfully with only one minor encounter with an U.W.U.S (which just happened to be an older woman passing through Kat’s backyard and failed to see us in the windows), the five of us manage to cover every window, bolt every door, and turn off every light so it looks as though no one is occupying the structure. The world has turned dark, beautiful stars glimmering in the sky. 

I wish they would hide behind clouds.

The last time I saw the stars as bright as they are now was three weeks ago, when my brother, Shade, received the virus plaguing our world. His fever got incredibly high and most nights he woke us up with his choked breathing. That night when the stars shone as bright as the sun, my brother was taken to the hospital, leaving the rest of us to wonder if he would ever return. I cried that night, gently holding the earring he bought me before his failing health wrenched itself into our lives.

I touch the present that resides in my earlobe, tracing the rim of it as tears sting my eyes. This entire day has been horrible, practically begging for sobs, but this moment is the one that gets me. Gisa, who has been distant from me since I started acting out, scoots closer to me from her sleeping spot on a mattress we found in the basement and rests her head on my shoulder.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

The question hits hard and I swallow to keep myself from openly crying. “If he got the vaccine, I’m not so sure.” As much as I hate to admit it, there’s no telling what the vaccine did to him. Although, from what we’ve seen, only adults are reacting to the shot, I don’t know how old you have to be to turn into an U.W.U.S. In fact, I could be merely one year away from turning and I have no clue.

Gisa sighs. “We’ll see him again. Bree and Tramy too.” The mention of our other brothers who managed to escape the Stilts to a better life in college makes me bite my tongue. I love Gee, but if she makes me emotional I will not hesitate to give her a piece of my mind.

“Gee..”

“We will, Mare. I know it. We will.”

We both go silent. I don’t retaliate, letting her live the fantasy of our family coming together again. I wish I were as optimistic.

I stare through the hole in one of Kat’s curtains at the stars as Gisa slowly falls asleep. I make sure she’s in bed and covered with a blanket when it’s time for me to get up and stretch my legs. Kat’s already asleep in her spot next to Gee’s, one arm over her eyes as a replacement for an eye mask. 

“I can be first watch.” Kilorn says quietly when I approach him. He’s leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and shovel discarded next to him on the landing. Tiberias sits at the kitchen table inches from us, head buried in his hands. He’s wearing Kat’s brother’s clothes; a simple red t-shirt that compliments his eyes and jeans that are a little too tight on him. How the mighty Silver has fallen, forced to wear a Red rat’s clothing.

“You sure?” I gesture to the Calore with a concerned expression. 

Kilorn shrugs as if he doesn’t care about Tiberias’s wellbeing. “Yeah, I’m sure. Get some sleep, Barrow. You could use it.” I don’t want to ask what he means by that.

“Wake me up at two then so you can rest too. I’ll take over watch.”

The blonde looks as though he’d rather refuse but one look at my unwavering expression, he sighs. “Alright. Two o’clock it is.” His eyes betray him as he glances over at the son of the president. “Yo, Calore. I suggest you sleep, you look like you need it.”

Tiberias lifts his head, keeping his face turned away from us. “Later.” Is all he mumbles before resuming his previous position.

“Fine. But if we need to hightail it outta here tomorrow and you’re slowing us down, we won’t wait for you.” 

Kilorn is awarded a nod and nothing more. I drum my fingers on the kitchen counter, squinting through the dark at the large shadow sitting there. The dark has certainly affected us all and I can mainly only see shapes unless something is directly in front of me, as my eyes have adjusted. Tiberias, from afar in the night, looks like a harmless, unmoving blob. It almost makes me forget he holds more power than us Reds could ever hope to attain.

“What happened to your family?” I blurt out without thinking. Tiberias tenses. I hit a weak point, that’s for sure.

Swiveling in his seat, the rich man faces us, dark circles underneath his eyes and flushed blue cheeks from being pressed into his hands for too long. “My parents are zom...I mean… U.W.U.S.” He scrunches up his nose slightly as if he misused the word. It’s kind of cute. 

“Yeah, everyone went through that.” Kilorn spits.

Ignoring him, Tiberias fiddles with his flame-maker bracelets, twisting them out of habit. “And I have no idea where my brother is. He could be dead...I don’t even want to think of that.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” I choose to say. Although little pity flows through me for the spoiled Silver, I do understand. I’d give anything to see mine again.

Grimacing, he shrugs, bronze eyes surprisingly clear in the dark. “A half brother. He was born out of an affair my father had. He lives with his mother on the other side of town from us, but he visits every other weekend. I still see him as a valued member of my family though, no matter how invisible he is to our dad.”

It’s almost like a sob story from a soap opera. Though this conversation feels more real than any TV show could make it. “I hope you find him.” I can’t bring myself to say anything else.

“I hope so too.”

“Go to bed, Mare. I’ll wake you up at two.” Kilorn interrupts, his back to Tiberias. He’s obviously envious of the attention I’m giving the newcomer. 

Obliging, I say goodnight, tiptoeing to my spot on the couch, diagonal from Gisa and Kat’s mattress. As I lay on the scratchy, green couch, I hear hushed voices from the kitchen and know Kilorn and Tiberias are speaking about whatever nonsense Kilorn decided to bring up. 

Today has officially been the worst day of my life and I’ve had some pretty shitty days. Such as when I first met Kilorn (although I am joking when I say that). U.W.U.S, corpses, and hidden betrayals weaved their way into our lives and left us craving our everyday boring ways. Nothing and nobody will ever be the same after these events, especially since the population will shrink to not even a quarter of its size. I’m dozing off as a thought hits me, along with flashes of the bodies we saw in the streets, guts spread around them with blood seeping from every opening imaginable.

_ How long will we last? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism welcome and encouraged! Anything doesn’t seem right, don’t hesitate to comment about it. I know the whole president staying in the family might not make sense too, I remembered y’all can’t read my mind for what I think of it lol so if you’re confused, I can let you know :)


	4. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been weeks since the group of five arrived at Kat’s house and tension inflates.
> 
> Kilorn POV (bc I’m tired of writing in Mare’s POV lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! I know I disappeared for a while but that’s because my motivation and mental health plummeted but I got a burst of ideas and wrote the next chapter :)
> 
> And yes, there will be new characters introduced in the next chapter, I promise
> 
> Enjoy!

“I thought I was your friend.” Gisa says with malice, though her voice trembles behind her shield. 

I feel like a jerk as a cold smile creeps onto my face. “Sorry, Gee. Some things just have to be done. Look at you, you’re alone. No one is going to help you. Give up now and I may spare your life.”

The look she aims at me is filled with such hatred, I’m surprised I don’t spontaneously combust. Then, as if giving up, she heaves a sigh and throws me the last of her Monopoly money. “You win.” She mumbles. Kat pats her back in reassurance from her spot adjacent to us.

Holding up my fists in victory, I silently cheer. “The fourth game goes to me, Kilorn, the best person ever.” I cross my arms proudly. I’ve never been the best at Monopoly but ever since Kat pulled the game out of her brother’s room and Gisa challenged me, since we have nothing better to do, I became king of board games. I realize I’m rubbing it in a bit too much but Gisa doesn’t mention it. She stays in good spirit, smiling and shaking her head.

Mare snorts from the couch. “You act as though you won a war.” She lays on her stomach with her legs sticking up. She’s holding a book with a horse on the front, which makes me snicker internally. Mare, reading a book about mares. Unfortunately, she’d gladly introduce me to her fist if I ever mentioned it. The book hangs loosely from her hands, forgotten as she decided to watch the game instead.

“Well, sort of. Gisa is a tyrant when it comes to Monopoly. I just overthrew her four times in a row!” Although I’m raising my voice, it doesn’t go above a whisper. None of our voices can unless we want to draw our friendly neighborhood U.W.U.S to our hideout.

Gisa scoffs. “I’m no more of a tyrant than you are a worthy opponent.” I gasp in false offense, covering my heart with my hand. She rolls her eyes while Kat simply smiles at me.

Mare snorts again but her eyes stray to the kitchen table. The Silver sits facing us with a solemn look. His bronze eyes are clouded, as if he’s recalling a bad memory, and are fixed intently on the game board. Then, as if waking from a dream, he notices us all staring.

“Sorry. I was..thinking.”

In my opinion, he sounds like a fictional character, the strong, bold, courageous hero who pauses between every word to create dramatic effect. The kind that’s supposed to draw you in and comfort him so he can continue on his journey and defeat the multi-headed demon goat or whatever. Apparently, I’m the only one who isn’t fooled. 

Mare sits up from her spot, closing the horse book without marking her page. “Cal?” I hate the way she says his name. Like she’s the helpless heroine at his side that does nothing but make him happy. Lately, that’s how she’s been acting and it pisses me off. 

Even Gisa and Kat straighten to look at him, their brows furrowed. The Silver’s become a part of our group now, an important part. I can’t quite place why that makes me bitter. He’s a nice guy, clumsy and a bit awkward, but nice. Maybe it’s because he’s Silver and the son of the fucking president. Maybe it’s because he’s destined to rule over us, democratically of course, and make all of our country’s biggest decisions.

Wearily, he rubs his brow. “Mavey loved board games.” 

There he goes again. Spouting useless memories about his lost brother. I get he’s grieving for the last potential dead member of his family but come on. We’ve all lost people close to us because of the virus, all in terrible, horrifying ways. How come this Mavey is so special?

Playing the role of comforting damsel, Mare approaches him and sinks into the chair opposite. “I’m sorry. He sounds like an important person in your life.” Cal nods, eyes glazing over again.

I don’t notice I’m glaring at them until I feel Kat’s timid hand on my shoulder. “We can put this away. Could you take care of…” she trails off but her indication is clear. I groan, making a face, but she remains unmoved. Not only will the worst chore in the house get done, I won’t have to sit here and grovel. More importantly, Gisa and Kat won’t have to suffer watching me grind my teeth.

“Yeah. Better than this.” 

“Be careful.” Kat warns. I don’t turn back to nod at her.

I leave Gisa and Kat to pick up the scattered play money, taking my shovel with me, which was propped up against the wall behind me. I’ve grown attached to it the past couple of weeks, so much that Mare said she’s afraid I’ll duct tape it to my hand, which I can’t say I haven’t thought about. Our situation proves it’s best to always have a weapon, just in case. I would’ve been dead without my shovel three days ago when I was attacked by a lone U.W.U.S while completing my upcoming chore. I realize this is the second time in a row I’ve had to do this and I scowl to myself.

Although it’s understandable why nobody’s volunteering to dispose of everybody’s shit.

Kat’s bathroom is just beyond the kitchen area, tucked between the mudroom and the closet holding towels and dog treats for a dog that must’ve passed on a while ago because the treats are moldy. When the five of us discussed bathroom policies, we agreed there would be no flushing the toilet. That led to the problem of what to do with our...excrements. The Silver had the best idea, even though I hate to admit it. He’s advised us to use a large bucket, or whatever we could find that was closest to that, and empty it once every three days, or whenever the smell got the best of us. It’s not the perfect solution and it certainly isn’t the way we’d like to live, but it’s the best we can do at the moment.

And I keep getting stuck with the job.

Entering the bathroom feels more like entering a toxic wasteland. The smell burns my nostrils and I swear it singes off the smaller hairs on my face and arms. No one likes to talk about it for embarrassment reasons but holy shit does this place stink.

I put down my shovel to lean against the sink. I’ll be fine for a minute outside. Three days ago, I was lucky I had my shovel but I only brought it because I had to scrub the inside of the bucket as well, which wasn’t fun. My extended time outside got me in serious trouble. One minute shouldn’t hurt.

Grabbing the rubber gloves Kat found in the cabinet underneath the sink, I pull them on with a snap and grab the bucket while keeping my body and face as far away from it as I can. My nose wrinkles. I must look stupid but I dare you to try this and act like there’s not feces splashing dangerously close to your hands. I don’t notice I’m holding my breath until I’ve managed to carry the bucket to the front door, have Kat rush over to hold it open, and dump the nasty contents into the nearest bush over the porch, which happens to be part of the front garden. Nature’s fertilizer. Perfect for budding plants.

I’m so relieved to have gotten rid of the smell, for the most part, that I don’t see the U.W.U.S advancing from the sidewalk where they had been milling around aimlessly. 

“Kilorn.” Gisa hisses, poking her head out next to Kat’s. “Get in here.”

The moan of an U.W.U.S too close for comfort makes me forget about my aching arms and the droplets of poo water on my forearms. I nearly drop the bucket as another appears around the corner of the house and begins to climb the steps to the porch, coming in between me and the front door. For the undead, they can be quick when they’d like to. 

“Kilorn.” Gisa says, louder this time, but gains the attention of a second U.W.U.S instead. The world seems to go in slow motion. I’m cornered between the porch railing and an U.W.U.S with no way inside except to either fight the creature or jump onto the front lawn and run for my life to the backyard where I’m not sure the back door is open. A second U.W.U.S advances on Gisa, who locks eyes with me.  _ Don’t do it. _ I try to tell her with my eyes.  _ Please don’t do it. _

Her eyes reflect fear.  _ I’m sorry. _ “Backyard.” She announces before slamming the door shut and locking it just as the second U.W.U.S reaches it. I can hear heavy objects moving back in front of the door.

Now I really wish I had my shovel.

An attempted grab for my throat catches me off guard since it’s fast. I back up, tripping over my own feet and stumbling until my back hits the porch railing. The bucket quivers in my hands and I see my hands are shaking. No, not just my hands. My entire body. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m terrified. 

The U.W.U.S swipes again, reaching for my face this time. It misses but not by much. It’s close enough now so I can see the milky whites of its eyes and the corroding flesh around it’s nose and mouth. It smells like a sewer with a hint of rotting meat. 

Yummy.

It snarls at me, rearing its arm back to throw at me again. Why I haven’t moved yet, I’m not sure. Panic seized me and I’m stuck in a paralysis state, doing nothing but shaking. Incredibly useful. But as the U.W.U.S swipes at me for the third time, every nerve in my body explodes and the next thing I know, I’m rolling onto the grass on the side lawn. When I come to my senses again, I find the bucket still in my hands but it’s dented where I must’ve hit the U.W.U.S. I’m a bit scratched up but I feel almost nothing as I scramble to my feet and sprint to the backyard, avoiding other undead I see along the way, which unfortunately is a lot. They must’ve heard Gisa slam the door. Or maybe they were called by their friends to come chow down on a skinny blonde kid that smells like fish. Either one is very possible.

As I figured, the back door is locked. The U.W.U.S already know where I am and are advancing quickly so I pound mercilessly on the back patio door. The inside is still covered with shades and blankets so I can’t see inside. I can only hope someone's coming to let me in.

“Help!” I cry, though I sound like a helpless child. I hate myself for it but with an army of the undead closing in on me, I feel like my throat’s closing up and my lungs are being squeezed of air. 

I bang on the door again and again. Nobody opens it. Nobody peeks out the glass to see what the hell’s going on. Gisa couldn’t have forgotten about me. No way.

Turning around, I come face to face with around twelve U.W.U.S’s, all baring their teeth, gnashing them like they’re imagining what I’ll taste like. All of them look uglier than the last, each with rotting flesh, ripped clothes, and those pure white eyes that no longer see. Blood pours from a few of them, possibly where people hit them to defend themselves before meeting their demise. 

I guess that’s what’ll happen to me too.

I grip the shit bucket in my hands, making my knuckles turn white. I want to have a realization about my life or a sudden calmness that washes over me. I’ll let the U.W.U.S’s kill me but they won’t hear me scream. Instead, water fills my eyes and a tear threatens to fall down my cheek.  _ I’m going to die holding a shit bucket. _

I’m about to be shredded into Kilorn meat slices when the sliding glass door opens behind me and someone yanks me by the collar of my shirt into the house. The door is slammed before the closest U.W.U.S. can get inside. 

“Kilorn!” Suddenly, Mare’s next to me, as well as Kat. The Silver bars the door with the heaviest objects he can find and Gisa runs to help him the best she can. Mare stares at me, eyes wide and concerned but filled with anger. “They didn’t get you, did they?” She searches for any cuts but I shake my head. I must look insane. I’m rocking on the ground with the shit bucket held tightly against my chest and my eyes are focused on the U.W.U.S’s clawing at the glass with a few tears streaking down my cheeks. I never cry, at least in front of people. Mare takes notice and her eyes soften. “Kilorn..” She attempts to brush a stray tear from my cheek but my arm snaps out, almost on its own, and smacks her hand away.

“You left me.” I glare at Gisa, who guiltily looks back at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have another choice.”

Thinking rationally, I know she’s right. She made a split decision that was the most reasonable option. But I’m so mad I can’t think about anything much less why she did what she did. I angrily wipe the tears from my face and stand, discarding the bucket on the floor and ignoring Mare who stands with me. “I don’t care. I could’ve died! I could’ve..” My voice catches in my throat and I stifle a hiccup.

The Silver finishes boarding up the door so we can’t see the U.W.U.S anymore. He looks back at me with that remorseful look he’s had for as long as we’ve known him. 

I feel like every part of me is on fire. I point a finger at his face. “And you. Stop looking at me like that. You aren’t any more special than anyone else here so stop acting like your life is more horrible than ours.”

Now Mare’s upset again. “Kilorn. Stop.”

I whirl to face her. “Don’t defend him. We all know you want him to rail you but that doesn’t give you the excuse to isolate yourself with him all the time. The rest of us still don’t trust him.” One quick look at Kat makes him grumble. “Okay, maybe it’s just me that doesn’t, but still. He’s Silver. He could be dangerous to our safety.”

“Really? What has he done so far that’s put us in danger? He sure didn’t go outside unarmed, unlike someone else I know.” 

She might as well have stabbed me. We glare at one another, green and brown eyes blazing with fury.

“Kilorn’s right.” 

Mare opens her mouth in protest but the Silver must’ve given her a look. I turn to look at him in shock.

He nods. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be sitting in the kitchen or on the couch sulking all the time. All of us have had it rough and I may be lucky enough to find my brother. I’m sorry. I was inconsiderate.”

Gisa looks down at her feet. Kat still kneels on the floor, staring at the rest of us with sad eyes. Mare says nothing, turns on her heel and leaves, marching up the stairs. Her footsteps echo in the silence. I’m honestly not sure what to say. I was in a rage, saying things I wasn’t actually sure I meant, and this idiot agreed with me, making me look like an asshole. 

Yet I have more respect from him now. That must’ve been hard to say, even if he was wrong. Even if I was wrong.

“I’m sorry.” I say to no one in particular. Then I robotically pick up the shit bucket and make my way up the stairs to retreat to whatever corner of the house is farthest from Mare.

* * *

I’m slowly drifting into insanity. Sometimes, I find myself talking to the wall like I casually struck up a conversation with someone I know at the local market. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m doing it until I’ve been talking for hours. Nevertheless, it makes me feel better, having someone to talk to, even when someone isn’t there. Much better than talking to any of the four downstairs.

For a few days, I’ve abandoned the group and isolated myself in the master bedroom on the second floor, where Kat’s parents used to sleep. I should be bothered by the fact I sleep in a possible dead couple’s bed but the mattress is so comfortable, I don’t care. In fact, I don’t care about anything anymore. With my near death experience, I feel numb to the world. Even my hunger pains drifted away and I’ll find myself eating only late at night when everyone’s asleep and even then it’s just a few crackers or a can of corn.

Only now, four days without much food, water, or company, I finally blink out of my depressed trance and look around. What the hell am I thinking? Numb to the world? Who am I, the emo kid? Groaning, I stretch out my limbs and they ache in protest. I don’t know if I’ve moved an inch since midnight. That was over twelve hours ago.

_I wonder if Mare’s thought about me._ _Or any of them._

I tell myself to shut up. Why should they? I was a jerk and they have every right to give zero shits about me. But the thought appears again and won’t go away.

I turn my head lazily to stare at the closed door. I’m opposite of it but I’m still close enough to see the faded knicks and scratches in the door where little Kat and her brothers must’ve hit a sharp toy against it. My shovel, who I’ve given the name Jimmy (don’t ask me why), leans against the wall next to me, peeking into my peripheral vision. Other than the wall, Jimmy’s been my best friend.

Maybe I am crazy.

“I should talk to them. Or at least try, right?” I mumble to Jimmy, who doesn’t answer. I take that as a yes. “You’re right. If they still hate me then I’ll at least know.” But I sit there for another ten minutes, gazing at the door as though imagining myself getting up and walking through the entryway, down the stairs, and around the corner into the kitchen.

A knock startles me. It’s enough to get me to my feet and to grab Jimmy. 

“Yeah?” My voice is hoarse. How long has it been since I said something above a mutter?

“We’re having a meeting. Care to join?” It’s the Silver. I’m assuming no one else offered to come get me so he took it upon himself.

Scoffing, I march over and open the door a crack. Bronze eyes find mine but this time they aren’t sad. They’re full of hope, fear, and determination mixed into a big ball of emotions. For a moment, I see why Mare’s so eager to comfort him.

“Am I welcome?” I mean to sound angry. However, my body isn’t up for it. The words that fall from my lips are sad and pathetic, as if I were waiting for the moment to be wanted again.

The Silver nods. “It’s serious.”

“How serious?”

“We’re almost out of food.”

* * *

Our meeting is held in the living room. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I realize I’ve forgotten how dark the place is with the drapes and blankets covering the windows. Small patches of sunlight flicker on the couch and the floor, a single ray reflects off of the television mounted above the fireplace and aims directly next to Mare’s head as she sits cross legged on the sofa. She’s gotten thinner, if that’s possible, from the last time I saw her. Or maybe it’s the hollow look in her eyes like she’s given up.

Gisa and Kat sit next to one another on the other side of the sofa. Both look weary and poor Kat’s eyes are red and puffy. We’re all wearing the same clothes we came in, except for Calore since he’s the only one who fits in Kat’s brother’s attire. 

Upon entering, all three girls look up and I’m half expecting glares or sarcastic comments. Instead, I get a curt nod from Mare and a small smile from Gisa. Kat stares at her hands. 

“Alright. Everyone’s here.” The Silver gestures to an armchair adjacent to the couch so I sit, keeping Jimmy gripped tightly in my hands. He stands in front of us, as if he were born to give speeches (which he kinda is), and clears his throat. “So, food. We have maybe three days rations left. Ever since the...incident,” he glances at me briefly, “..U.W.U.S’s haven’t stopped trying to get in. They’re still right at the doors, some exits have more than others.”

I swallow. If it hadn’t been for my stupid mistake, we’d have a better chance at leaving to get more rations. I’m surprised they haven’t already voted to eat me first if cannibalism turns out to be our only option.

The burner continues, “Kat said there’s a grocery store just a few blocks north of here, which shouldn’t be hard to get to if we can make it past the front porch. But that’s our problem.” He pauses, meeting each of our eyes awkwardly, like he’s searching for someone to speak up and give an idea. None of us give him one.

“I don’t know if we can.” Mare says. “If we’re surrounded by U.W.U.S at every exit, how the hell are we supposed to get from here to the store? What if the store doesn’t even have any food left? My guess is it’s already been looted the second people figured they’d be cooped up for who knows how long. That’s what I would’ve suggested if we hadn’t been running for our lives and we had time to spare.”

Everyone considers this and I bite back to urge to snap at her. She’s being pessimistic, looking at the negative side of things. But she’s right. For all we know, there’s no more food left that hasn’t been stolen or molded over. Half of me is actually relieved we have someone like her on our side. The other half remains determined to strangle her.

Gisa pipes up so quietly I almost miss what she says. “I think we should try. It may be suicide but so is sitting here and starving. At least we’ll go down fighting..?” She’s not sure, that’s easy to tell. I’m moved by her words though, they’re difficult ones to say. Kat sniffles next to her. I have a feeling this subject was brought up before I came down.

“What if we send out a small group?” I find myself saying. Four pairs of eyes train on me and I suddenly feel self-conscious. Squirming a bit in my seat, I clutch Jimmy’s handle tighter. “I mean, if it’s only two or three of us, we have enough people to attack and help one another but not too many to draw unneeded attention. That way, we can have the others stay back to protect the house.” I’m not exactly confident in my plan when it’s met with silence.

“Actually,” The Silver says, “we could try that. It’s our best option and if something happens to the ones who leave, there are still survivors here. Only two at the minimum will risk their lives.”

Mare stands almost immediately. “I’ll go.” I don’t understand why she’s so passionate about diving headfirst into death until I see the way she looks at Gisa. “I’ll go and Gisa will stay here. That’s the only way I’m okay with this plan.”

Gisa opens her mouth to protest but Kat agrees. “Sorry, Gee. I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t come back.” She hiccups and a tear slides down her cheek. It’s enough to make Gisa slump back in her spot and nod numbly. She must want to tell Mare not to go but we all know how impulsive and stubborn she is. Once her mind is made up not even the strongest force in the world can change it.

“I’ll go too.” 

I want to grind my teeth again. Of course he does, especially if Mare’s going. His volunteering is the only reason I stand as well. “Me too.” I’ve already faced death, twice, and there’s no way I’m going to sit around the house wondering if Mare and that block headed moron are done playing tonsil hockey.

Mare looks between the two of us, her eyes fierce. “Okay. We have our group. Gisa and Kat will stay here while Cal, Kilorn, and I search for food.” She turns to Gisa. “If we aren’t back by tonight, assume we aren’t coming back.” The sentence tumbles from her mouth so easily, I’m wondering if she practiced the line in her head so her voice wouldn’t quiver.

Gisa can only nod and look at her hands.

Mare then turns to us and hesitates. She obviously wants one of us to stay here and the odds are it’s me. But she doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Get your supplies, weapons, anything you think we’ll need.” Calore nods and walks briskly into the kitchen where he’s stashed his few belongings. Mare fixes her eyes on me and I want to curl into a ball and disappear. “And Kilorn...don’t fuck this up.”

As she walks away, I have only one thought on my mind. It’s not about the great possibility of dying or the fact that I’ll have to put up with Mare and Calore. 

_ I’m going to fuck this up in the worst way possible. _


End file.
